


So This is Love

by ead13



Series: Emphasis on Redemption [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Romance, Mary-Beth is a take-charge kinda gal, Poetry, drunk Kieran is adorable, so is regular Kieran but you know, these two deserve nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-07-29 05:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ead13/pseuds/ead13
Summary: From the moment he first laid eyes on her, Kieran believed whole-heartedly that Mary-Beth was an angel too pure for life in a gang. Little did he know she felt similarly about him after she got to know him. Life had put them in places they hadn't necessarily wanted to be, but maybe if it put them both here, it was worth it.Kieran x Mary-Beth One-shots tied to my "Emphasis on Redemption" AU





	1. Nothing to Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary-Beth hears a strange sound coming from the stables and simply has to investigate. What, or rather, WHO she finds shocks her, and it becomes clear the feeling is mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between chapters 3 and 4 of the main fic

Why had she volunteered to go grab Pearson’s ladle from his prep area near the stables? It was far too cold up in these mountains, especially now that the sun had gone down. A biting wind tugged at Mary-Beth’s long wool skirt as she pulled her shawl tighter, her steps quickening. Always being too nice for her own good, apparently.

As she stopped to search for it, having only a flicker of light from her lantern to aid her, she heard a sound that made her freeze. It certainly wasn’t the horses that were put away for the night; the soft sobbing and sniffling was all too human. Her mind worked furiously as she tried to figure out who had been missing from dinner, and she couldn’t come up with a one. Curiosity was one of Mary-Beth’s best and worst traits, so once she found what she was looking for, she tip-toed to the door and slid it open just a crack.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside; she didn’t dare wave around her lantern for fear of intruding where she shouldn’t be. The silhouettes of the gang’s various horses were expected, but there was also someone sitting on the ground near one of the posts, and they were shaking as they continued to weep with their head bowed. Even without seeing their face, the sound of it alone broke her bleeding heart.

She opened the door a little further and held out her lantern, no longer afraid of revealing herself. “Hello? Who’s there? Are you all right?”

His head snapped up in surprise, revealing puffy red eyes and tear streaks down his dirty face that lead into an unkempt beard. As soon as he realized Mary-Beth was standing there, he did his best to rein in his sobs and eke out a few words, his panic upon seeing her evident. “M-M-Miss? What-What are ya doin’ here? Y-Y-Ya gotta run!”

“Run? From what?” Instead of obeying, she did the exact opposite as she approached him.

“V-V-Van der Lindes!” At the name, he pulled uselessly against the ropes holding him.

A realization dawned on Mary-Beth. She’d heard the boys bragging about capturing an O’Driscoll to interrogate, so this must be the one. Though…as she looked him over, she couldn’t help but feel skeptical that this was even an O’Driscoll. All the stories she’d heard were of them being ruthless killers and treacherous vipers, but this one was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Say, are you the one Arthur captured?”

“A-Arthur? Who’s that?”

“Big fella, golden hair, lots of scruff on his face and he never smiles.”

Clearly the description rang a bell, because he trembled even more. “Y-You mean you’re…w-with them?” His obvious disbelief at her Van der Linde affiliation must have matched hers at his O’Driscoll affiliation.

“Well yeah. They’re not horrible people.”

“He said he was gonna do all kinds o’ horrible things to me…” the boy squeezed his eyes shut. “He wants me to talk, but I don’t know much o’ anythin’!”

“Oh, I see.” Mary-Beth bit her lip in thought. “Well, what did they say to you exactly?”

“The boss is gonna start by starvin’ me out. I don’t know what else they plan on doin’, but if they’re anythin’ like Colm…”

“They aren’t!” Mary-Beth interrupted quickly. “They want to protect the gang, and they will do anything to that end, but they aren’t butchers like O’Driscoll. You really…” She inhaled, debating whether or not to say her next words, and ultimately decided it would be worth it if it would calm him down. “…don’t need to panic. If they can get what they want, they won’t do anything real bad to you. I’ve been a part of the gang for three years, I know.”

“You have? A girl like you, runnin’ with the Van der Lindes?” The idea was apparently a struggle to grasp.

Mary-Beth put her hands on her hips. “And what does that mean?”

“I…that is, you…I mean…Colm never had any women runnin’ with his gang unless they were whores.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m NOT one of those,” Mary-Beth sniffed.

“I didn’t think you were!” he insisted, trying to lick his dry lips to no avail. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He hadn’t had a drink since that morning, and crying had definitely not helped his situation. Damn it, why had he cried so much?

Mary-Beth noticed. “Starving you out, huh? Tell you what, I’ll be back later. I think it’s safe to assume you won’t be going anywhere.”

“Is it okay for you to even be here?” Why he worried for her when he was obviously so worried for himself boggled her mind.

“They won’t know.” Before he could argue, she retreated through the door and slid it shut, leaving him alone in the dark once more.

How long passed, he couldn’t say. It felt like an eternity, but probably only because there was the promise of that nice girl coming back. Maybe, judging by the faint hint of moonlight from the cracks in the stable walls, a few hours had passed. Finally, the door slid open again without preamble, revealing the Van der Linde girl holding a flask in her hand. The moon had moved just so, illuminating her from behind and giving her a soft, ethereal glow. Her next words, spoken soft and low, convinced him she was an angel. “Here, I snuck you some water.”

“Y-you did? But w-won’t you…”

She shushed him as she carefully walked over to where he was seated. “If Arthur said he was going to starve you, then he should have been more specific. I’m just giving you a drink is all.” She unscrewed the cap to the flask and held it to his mouth. There were no more protests from him. It was a bit embarrassing as he lost some of the water out the corners of his mouth in his haste, but ultimately he was just so grateful for the relief that he didn’t think too long on it.

When he’d had his fill, he sighed in relief. “You’re too nice to be in a gang, miss.”

Mary-Beth shrugged as she put the cap back on. “You don’t always get a choice where you end up. Sometimes, all you can think about is food, a place to sleep, and someone who cares that you are alive. I’ve got that here. And believe you and me…” She flashed a mischievous grin that made his heart beat a little faster. “I’ve got my jobs that I do very well. How else do you think I snuck out here with a flask of water?”

“I’ll keep that in mind, miss.”

“Mary-Beth.”

“Your name?”

“Yes. And if I may, I think you’re the one who doesn’t seem like they should be running with a gang. You’re way too polite.”

The boy managed a weak smile and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s like you said, Miss Mary-Beth, you don’t always get a choice, not when you’re tryin’ to survive.”

“What’s your name?”

“Kieran.”

“Look, Kieran, if you want this to go well, just tell them what they want. Unless you are loyal to Colm…” Mary-Beth’s eyes glistened with a hint of danger, ready to pierce him and rip him to shreds.

“Hell no, miss! I can’t stand that bastard!”

“Good. Then this will be easy.”

“But I can’t talk,” he continued uneasily.

Mary-Beth cocked her head in confusion. “Why not?”

“You’ve never seen what he does to people who talk…” Kieran seemed to curl into himself at the very memory. “It’s the stuff of nightmares.”

She hummed in thought. “I can’t help you with that decision. You can take your chances with O’Driscoll or with Arthur, but you’re going to have to choose. Nothing I say will change his mind where an O’Driscoll member is concerned. Believe you and me, they are going to go for the gelding tongs, for sure.”

Kieran blinked in horror. “Gelding tongs?”

“Only if you won’t cooperate. But hey, at least you should be able to sleep now; you aren’t in any danger here, okay?” That had to be an improvement from when she found him. She turned to go. “I’ve been gone a while. I’d better not push my luck.”

“Wait, Miss Mary-Beth!” Kieran whispered urgently. When she looked back, he continued with a wide-eyed “thank you”. Yes, he was far too soft to be a dangerous O’Driscoll. There was no way he had known his crying would be heard, no way it could have been an act, and now she figured he had been genuinely terrified by his position, not knowing any different than Colm’s ways.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night if I can.”

For the first time, he gave a real smile. The fear that had gripped him so tightly when Arthur’s lasso had snagged him was finally fading. Surely no gang that had Mary-Beth could be a cruel one.


	2. Purty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot Mary-Beth doesn't like about how she looks. She certainly wouldn't hack it as a female lead in a romance novel. One morning she is forced to confront her insecurities when Kieran let's two little words slip: You're purty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took some serious liberties with the in-game conversation this references. She actually was kind of mean, and I wanted to figure out why. Also wanted to give some sort of context for Kieran just up and calling her 'purty' for no apparent reason. Yes, I think he's got some guts, but I still don't believe he's THAT gutsy. Ta-da, end result.

Kieran barely slept. When he did, it was a very light sleep, an unfortunately necessary survival mechanism developed over several years of living in constant fear. Each morning, he was up before the sun, and he knew the routine of the camp by now. Uncle would stagger out of bed first to take a leak before returning to his tent for another snooze. Pearson was next, working hard so breakfast would be ready by the time the others in the camp wanted it. Susan wasn’t long behind him, but she usually took a smoke and watched the sun come up, perhaps enjoying her little slice of peace before the chaos of the camp began. He never dared approach any of them, he just started his chores.

The one person he couldn’t understand was Mary-Beth. The sun was never up for more than a few minutes when she rose from her sleeping roll, moving carefully so as not to wake Tilly or Karen as they continued slumbering beside her. She’d rummage through her things, for what he could never see clearly, and clutch it to her chest before scurrying off to the outskirts of camp. It was really starting to bother him that he had no idea what was going on, but it wasn’t any of his business.

This particular morning, he watched her from behind Silver Dollar as she pulled her shawl tighter to ward off the cool morning air. His curiosity was finally reaching the tipping point. Perhaps if he just happened to wander to where he knew she would head, beat her to it, it could appear a total coincidence? It was worth a shot.

That was how Mary-Beth stumbled across Kieran, innocently oiling the saddles in her usual spot for the first time. She nearly jumped at the unexpected sight. “K-Kieran?”

“Oh, Mary-Beth, good mornin’!” He pretended to look surprised, and perhaps the dim light would help his cause. Acting was not necessarily one of his strong suits. “Whatcha doin’ up so early?”

“I could ask you the same,” she retorted breezily, but he noticed her lick her bottom lip nervously. What in the world?

Kieran shrugged, but continued his work. “It’s hard to sleep most o’ the time, so I figure I may as well make myself useful. Gotta earn my keep, like Arthur says.” He left it there, hoping she would offer some information. He really didn’t want to pry.

“You’re doing just fine. Nobody will say anything if you rest a bit more, and if they do, I’ll bite their heads off!” In her enthusiasm, the little container she was clutching slipped from her hands, bounced off the ground, and rolled towards him on the hard dirt. The top had popped off at impact, sending the jar’s powdery contents rising as clouds. A container of dust? It stirred a faint memory, one of his mammy as she took a brush and applied it to her face in front of a mirror. He’d always wondered why she did something so silly, but assumed at the time that it was just a thing mothers did. Was Mary-Beth going to put that stuff on her face too?

Before he could ask, she was hurriedly scooping it up, trying to catch as much of its contents as possible without actually getting dirt mixed in. “No! I don’t have enough money to buy a new container!” she fretted, her voice strained yet quiet so as not to wake up the rest of the camp. She pretended not to notice how he watched her intently.

“What is it?”

Mary-Beth gave a snort. “Don’t you know anything about make-up?”

“Uhh…not really. I know girls use it. And, uh, haven’t really had the chance to ask a girl WHY they use it.”

Mary-Beth snapped the lid back on, and her words were equally clipped. “To look prettier, Kieran. Girls use it to look prettier.”

“But ya ARE purty!” The words just came out without him realizing it, and given her incredulous expression, he wished desperately he could take them back no matter how true they were. “I mean, I don’t wanna be too forward or nothin’, but…ya are.”

She clutched her jar to her chest once more and turned away. “And what would a filthy O’Driscoll know about it?”

It felt like being stabbed in the chest. Mary-Beth had never once referred to him by that title despite the habits of everyone else around her. And filthy? Insult to injury. He’d always thought she was beautiful, but good Lord, why had he vocalized it? He had no chance in hell of wooing a girl like her. Now, things were going to be weird between them, the things he had grown so comfortable with for the first time in years. Fool! It was a painful struggle to come up with the words to respond to such a cutting remark, and he was acutely aware that he must look like a fish out of water gasping for air right about now. “I know I ain’t a good-lookin’ feller, miss,” he managed with a shaky voice, “but that don’t make it any less true. And also, I ain’t an O’Driscoll!”

He scurried away before she could get a good look at the devastated mess he’d become.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Oh, Mary-Beth knew she’d messed up big time. Kieran expected cruelty like that from everyone else, but from her, someone he’d come to trust? It must have completely blind-sided him! Sure looked that way from the way he practically ran from her. Why had she been so catty towards his earnest praise?

Because she wasn’t pretty. He didn’t know what he was talking about. It wasn’t that farfetched, seeing as he’d probably had little experience with women. Scratch that, he definitely didn’t, or he’d know about makeup. Nope, he had no idea what ‘pretty’ was, or he wouldn’t be using that word to describe her. She could have warts and buckteeth and be cross-eyed and he’d still think her so because she was about the only person to be nice to him. 

Still didn’t mean she should have responded like that to the poor boy. He was just acting on instinct, being sweet. Kieran deserved an apology, and after she let things settle a bit she resolved to do just that.

After about ten minutes or so, enough time for her to collect her thoughts and put on her makeup as she’d originally set out to do, she found him sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest near the edge of the overlook, head buried in his arms as they wrapped around his knees. She’d really hurt him, and boy did that realization make her stomach turn in knots. “Kieran.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide as saucers. “M-Miss Mary-Beth?”

Gathering her skirts, she took a seat beside him. “I’m so sorry for how I spoke before. I was feeling…defensive, I guess, and I know I said something real hurtful to you. You aren’t filthy, haven’t been since Arthur got you that soap. In fact, I think you use it more religiously than anybody except Arthur himself, maybe Javier. It was a stupid thing to say. And calling you an O’Driscoll? I know better than anyone that’s not true at all. No O’Driscoll could be as sweet as you. I hope you can forgive me, eventually.”

Instead of seeing his posture relax, he scrunched up his eyebrows as he looked at her. “Defensive about what, exactly? I mean, I know you probably don’t like hearin’ how purty you are from a feller like me…”

“Kieran, it has nothing to do with the fact that YOU said it. If anybody said it, I’d react the same way. It just isn’t true.”

Now he was looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. “What makes ya say that?”

This, this was something she had never told anyone except her journal. How could she tell her closest friends when it was them that she was comparing herself against? And what would they say, anyhow? She was just being silly, she wasn’t any plainer than they were…she could hear it already. And what would Kieran say? Probably the same. Except, part of her was curious, if she were being honest. He was just so…different than anyone else she’d ever met. 

“If I told you, would you swear to secrecy?”

He nodded vigorously. “And not that it matters, but even if I wasn’t gonna keep a secret, who’d I tell? The horses?”

She had to smile. “I suppose that’s fair. Look, the thing is, the things men find attractive? I don’t have any of them. I’m not well-endowed like Karen…” She let a hand rest above her bosom, and it was hard to fight the urge to follow with his eyes like a creep. From what he could recall, he never thought she had a less-than-ideal figure. She sure wasn’t flat, not that that mattered to him, maybe just average. What was so wrong with that?

“I mean no offense to Karen whatsoever, but I didn’t think you, err, were concerned ‘bout flauntin’ that…”

“And my complexion? Ugh, Tilly’s got such gorgeous, flawless skin. I’m just covered in freckles and…” A hand darted up to her cheek to cover the beauty mark that adorned it. It suddenly occurred to Kieran that she may have been trying to cover it better with the makeup.

“The freckles are kinda cute…” he mumbled. He didn’t say aloud that the beauty mark looked like the perfect target for planting a kiss, but he certainly thought it.

“Abigail’s got the most gorgeous, smoky-blue eyes that could just draw a man in, and what do I have? Some dull green, like the color of algae. And Sadie’s shining golden hair? Mine can’t decide if it is brown or blonde so it just does neither well.”

Now this was just getting ridiculous. “You’ve, uh, really given this a lot o’ thought, haven’t ya?”

“I can’t even hide behind fine clothes like Miss O’Shea.” She looked down at her plain shirt and skirt, a cheap but sturdy fabric suited to her daily chores. Who the hell was Miss O'Shea?

“Okay, well, first off, mebbe you’ve been readin’ too many books.” When she cast him a sharp glance, he held up his hands defensively. “I mean, like you’re expectin’ things that ain’t…the way things are in the real world? I dunno. I ain’t got much experience with women or nothin’. All I do know is…” He inhaled deeply, steeling his courage. “…yer smile is so bright and so kind and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It makes you the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Except I know I ain’t seen many girls, but… Oh shit.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I oughtta just go take care o’ the horses instead o’ runnin’ my mouth. I ain’t good fer much else.”

Before he could leave, Mary-Beth tugged on the loose sleeve of his shirt. She looked up with wide eyes, and he thought to himself he’d like to drown in them. And run his course fingers through her soft curls. And kiss the freckles on her nose. Oh God, don’t even think about her bosom! “You’re real sweet, you know that, Kieran?”

“M-Me?” he stuttered, pointing to himself.

“Yes, you. Thank you for listening to me be silly about my insecurities. I guess it…feels good to tell someone besides my journal.”

“I won’t tell a soul, I swear!” He placed a hand on his rapidly beating heart.

“Good, because if you do,” she quirked an eyebrow, “I can think of serval people who would love nothing more than to torment you given an excuse.”

He shook his head so hard she thought it might go flying off. “No way, miss. I won’t even tell the horses!” 

This time, he darted away for good, leaving her to cover the smile growing on her face. Her beautiful smile. The smile that made her beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, he's figuring out he's got a crush :)
> 
> Also, no offense to anyone with warts or buckteeth or cross-eyes. She's very much in her head with societal norms, and such sentiments are not at all shared by the author!


	3. Romeo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran wants to impress Mary-Beth by writing out a poem for her. Should the poem happen to be of a romantic nature and give him the chance to confess his feelings, that would be a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was digging through possible poems to use and found this anonymous one from 1607. There is a third stanza, but for Kieran's sake I cut it. It was too perfect! Shout out to Lenny for his assist here.

It had all started with one of the most awkward questions Kieran had ever had to ask. “Lenny, I need help findin’ a poem.”

His companion had nearly spit out his coffee in shock. “A poem?”

“Shhhh! Keep it down, wouldya?” Kieran hissed, looking around nervously.

“What kind of poem?”

He could already feel his face burning with embarrassment. “A love poem…” he mumbled, but Lenny still heard it clear as day even if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Just a short one. I still ain’t too good with my letters yet…”

A knowing smile crept over Lenny’s face. “A little something for Miss Mary-Beth?”

“Not so loud, damnit!”

“She’ll be head-over heels for that. All those romance novels she reads, she’d want nothing more than to be courted proper.”

“Do…do you think she’ll still like it even if it comes from, well…me?”

Lenny shook his head with a smile. “Boy, do you not see the looks she gives you when you’re working on figuring out a word during reading lessons? She’s totally into you. Tell you what, in the name of love, I shall find you just the right one.”

“Remember, not too hard, okay?”

“Challenge accepted. Give me a few days.”

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVv

Lenny had told him upon presenting the poem that it was about the easiest one he could find. Even still, it looked daunting to Kieran. Lenny explained that sometimes the words didn’t work out the way he’d expect because the poem was so old, and people used to speak differently back then. That, and sometimes people switched words around to make it rhyme better. It was tempting to ask him for help learning the thing, but he really didn’t want to. It would be too weird. Besides, this was his special gift for Mary-Beth, so he wanted to do it himself.

Every night, once all the lights went out in camp, he stole over to the scout fire and copied the words over and over as he whispered them aloud. Most of the words he knew. A few he had no idea, so he sounded them out the best he could. Just a few days, and he should have it ready.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

“M-Mary-Beth? Do ya have a moment?” Kieran kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot as he looked anywhere except the girl’s face.

Based on this, she knew he was up to something. “Of course, Kieran, what do you need?” she asked, setting down her needlepoint.

“Can ya sneak away from camp for a little while?”

Mary-Beth looked behind her, clearly scanning for Grimshaw. The coast was clear. “It looks like it. Where are we going?”

“Just…out of camp, a little ways.” Before she could question further, he shot off into the trees, leaving her very confused. Gathering her long skirt, she set off after him.

She finally found him leaning against a tree, mumbling something to himself under his breath. He was also holding a pad of paper and gripping a pencil so tightly in his hand that she thought it would snap. Her eyes lit up as she pieced his motive together. “Kieran, are you going to write me something?”

His eyes got real big, but he nodded vigorously. “It’s just…somethin’ I’ve been practicin’. I wanna show you how hard I’ve been workin’ with my letters.”

Mary-Beth smiled warmly. “I know you’ve been working very hard. I don’t think there could be a more eager student.”

Kieran just cleared his throat and began, putting the pencil to paper. As he copied each word from memory, he read it aloud in a shaky voice.

There is a Lady sweet and kind,   
Was never face so pleased my mind,   
I did but see her passing by   
And yet I love her till I die. 

With the first stanza finished, he drew a deep breath before plunging into the second. He didn’t dare look up to see Mary-Beth’s reaction.

Her gesture, motion and her smiles,   
Her wit, her voice my heart BEG-WILES,   
BEG-WILES my heart I know not why,   
And yet I love her till I die. 

When he’d finished, he dropped the paper and pencil to the forest floor. Mary-Beth could have read it much prettier. Hell, she could have also written it much prettier. Everything about Mary-Beth was pretty. Still, he had to admit a certain satisfaction that he’d completed the task he’d set his mind to. Now, what was she going to think of his choice of literature?

When he risked a look, he saw with a start that she was actually blushing. He blushed all the time, but for her it was pretty uncommon. Was that good or bad? “How bad did I do?”

“Kieran…that was lovely,” she acknowledged, but her voice seemed a bit dazed. “You really did work hard, I can tell. But…why pick that poem?”

Oh no. How was he supposed to respond to that? She wasn’t giving him any indication of her feelings! “Well, ya see, I needed somethin’ real short, with lots o’ simple words. Lenny helped me find it.”

“Oh.” His honest explanation seemed to leave her a bit disappointed, which gave him hope and some encouragement.

“But it was perfect, even if the reasons were stupid. I mean, ‘There was a Lady sweet and kind’? It just…reminded me of you.”

“Just that line, or…?” she pressed. It LOOKED as if she wanted it to be more than that, so he decided to just bite the bullet and say what he thought.

“All of it. Well, all the parts I understood, anyway.” He swallowed hard and turned away. It would be too much to hope for that she might feel the same. He was weak and ugly and dirty and stupid. When he was with her, he felt for a moment like those aspects of himself vanished, but the reality was that someone as smart and tough and beautiful as Mary-Beth could do better. Way better.

As he braced himself for rejection, he was shocked to feel a light peck on his cheek. “Good Lord you are such a romantic, Kieran Duffy!” Her gentle hand guided his face back so it was looking into hers. She was practically beaming. “Serenaded with poetry AND watching a fella who couldn’t read or write a few weeks ago copy all the words? Now THAT’S a man I’m willing to give a chance.”

His throat tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “M-Mary-Beth… The truth is that I’m sweet on you.”

She laughed, and unlike so many times before in his life, it wasn’t mocking or derisive. No, this was light and lovely and made him feel like he could do anything in the world. “I’d figured that one out a while ago. I know you give me those looks while I’m trying to read to you!” Her hand slipped into his, and she gave it a squeeze. “I just wanted to wait and see if you’d find the nerve to do something about it.”

He looked absolutely floored, and Mary-Beth could gather that he hadn’t realized how obvious he had been with his pining.

“And not that I’m going to criticize the performance, but the word you were struggling with is pronounced ‘beguiled’.

Kieran wrinkled his nose. “Even when you say it like that I’ve got no idea what it means.”

“It means that something has captured your interest. So, in the poem, all the things the girl does get the guy’s attention.”

“Well…good. Then it’s still true that all of it was perfect for you.” She seemed pleased by that remark, but Kieran was already onto his next question. “But the other thing I can’t figure out: what is ‘wit’? I mean, I’ve heard people get called half-wits, but I don’t think that’s what’s goin’ on in the poem...”

Once more she burst into laughter, and like before, Kieran felt comfortable knowing that it was directed at the situation and not at his incompetence. “You’re not wrong with your conclusion, Kieran. ‘Wit’ can also mean someone’s sense of humor and cleverness.”

He breathed in relief. “Well you also have…wit…Mary-Beth.”

“So I’m ‘witty’?”

“You are ‘witty’.”

“You’ve gotta stop with all that Kieran. All this praise is gonna go to my head pretty soon!” She leaned to rest her head on his shoulder, as if she were truly fatigued from bearing his sweet words.

“So I should spread ‘em out then?” he grinned.

Mary-Beth raised her head and gave him a surprised look. “I had no idea you were so witty yourself!”

“What can I say? Your vocabulary lessons have BEG-WILED me.”

It was still wrong, but still so on point. Like with so many things, Kieran Duffy was full of surprises. She’d have a lot to write about tonight in her journal…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be real: Mary-Beth has some high standards for men courting her. Finally, someone rises to the challenge! This is absolute headcanon and you can't convince me otherwise.


	4. Liquid Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Mary-Beth can get Kieran a little buzzed, maybe she can get somewhere. Unfortunately, Karen goes waaaaay overboard with her help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the idea for drunk Kieran after seeing a clip of the Shady Belle party. You know, right before events that don't happen in this universe. This just wrote itself and I'm not even sorry.

She thought she’d been very clear to Karen about the plan. Kieran needed some liquid courage if they were going to take things any further in their relationship; it wasn’t anything she held against him, but past trauma had made him incredibly self-conscious and shy. The party tonight to celebrate the big heist would provide the perfect opportunity, and Karen would ply him with a drink or two before she swooped in and made her move. It wouldn’t exactly be the romance-novel-worthy first time she’d hoped for, but then again Kieran wasn’t exactly the standard romance novel male lead. That was okay. She wanted this more than she ever thought she could.

She should have kept a more careful eye on Karen.

By the time she found her guy, he was too far gone. In fact, he nearly ran into a tent pole as he stumbled around, and all Karen did was laugh at his drunken antics. She didn’t seem much better.

“Karen! How much did you give him?!”

“Wha, me?” Kieran pointed to himself, head titled in confusion.

“N-no. KA-REN.”

Karen just giggled. “Maybe three. Or was it four? Probably like four. You shoulda seen ‘im, he was really gettin’ into it.”

“My first time bein’ at a party. You guys sure know how ta have a good time!” Kieran smiled so sweetly, it made her feel relieved that her gentle boy was still in that inebriated mess somewhere.

“For crying out loud, Karen, I know he’s gained a little weight now that he’s eating properly, but there’s no way he’s got the body mass to handle FOUR so quickly in succession!”

Karen giggled again. “Whoops.”

Mary-Beth let out a frustrated sigh. “Come on, Kieran, you need a break. I think Karen is being a bad influence.”

“Party’s over?” The very idea changed his demeanor entirely as his shoulders slumped in dismay.

“No, no, not at all. I just think we should rest for a little while. You need a break from the alcohol. Why don’t we go back to your tent?”

He instantly brightened. Good heavens, he had transparent emotions on a normal day, but being under the influence seemed to heighten that even FURTHER, if that were possible. “Okay, Mary-Beth, I’d like that.” He turned to wave at his drinking companion. “Bye Karen!”

“Have fun…” Karen waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Kieran just laughed at her silly expression. “I have no idea what you mean!” He took about two steps before stumbling on uneven ground, forcing Mary-Beth to wrangle him by the arm. Good thing he still weighed next to nothing.

“Come on. You can’t hardly walk!”

“It was the ground’s fault…” he argued, but he was leaning pretty heavily on Mary-Beth. She was very glad that she’d kept it to one drink at this point.

“When was the last time you drank like this?”

“Hmmm…” He thought real hard for a moment, before shrugging with a lopsided grin. “Never! Alcohol costs money, and O’Driscolls don’t spend money on people like me. The army didn’t neither. Split a bottle of bourbon once with my first gang, but that was it. Hoooooey, did that burn goin’ down!”

The more he spoke, rambling on even more when drunk than he did when he was nervous, the more Mary-Beth’s heart sank in disappointment. She knew deep down she could not in good conscience make any moves on Kieran when he was in this state. Her big opportunity was blown, but she did her best not to let the frustration show. That wouldn’t be fair to him.

Once they arrived to his tent, she guided him in before settling them both on his sleeping roll. “How are you feeling?”

“Real good. Over the moon.” Before she knew what was happening, Kieran was laying his head on her lap. Liquid courage indeed. “So happy, especially now.”

“Now?”

“Now that you’re here. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?” He sank even deeper with a contented smile on his face. “When we’re done restin’, you wanna dance with me? I know you dance real pretty, I seen you dancin’ with Arthur at the last party. I want it to be me.”

It occurred to Mary-Beth that while certain activities were no longer on the table, getting Kieran completely wasted was opening up some interesting doors. His thoughts were being poured out like his whiskey, and it was all very enlightening. “You jealous, Kieran?” she murmured as she ran her fingers through his hair, reassuring him.

“Of course I’m jealous. Arthur’s a smooth bastard. I’m so not smooth…”

“But you’re sweet, and that’s why I like you, Kieran Duffy. I’ve never met a man as thoughtful and caring as you. I do set a very high bar, you know.”

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted.

Mary-Beth laughed at his eagerness. This was so not like him at all. “You’d have to get up to do that.”

Realizing this was true, he gave a low whine. “Maybe later then. This is too comfortable.”

“And to answer your first question, yes, I’d love to dance with you.”

“Good.” Suddenly, a yawn escaped him. “Might be a while yet.”

“I can wait.” And she could, for the dance, and for other things, because somehow she was falling even further in love with this boy.

He seemed to read her thoughts. “I love you, Mary-Beth.”

She snorted. “You’re just sayin’ that because you’re drunk, Kieran.”

“Hmmm. Yeah, I probably am. But I still love you anyways.” His voice trailed off as his eyes drifted closed. She continued to brush through his hair until he was snoring softly. Satisfied that he was out for the count, she eased him off of her lap and onto the ground, then tucked his blanket around him. Before making her exit, she also planted a soft kiss on his forehead. Not the night she expected, but not a bad turn of events either.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The next morning, Kieran was so hungover it was almost painful to watch. Mary-Beth made it clear to everyone in the camp that the next time they had a party, they needed to cut him off after two drinks, much to the others’ amusement. He was too busy throwing up to even defend himself. And when Karen sidled over and asked how they’d managed to do the deed so quietly given Kieran’s loud-mouth tendencies, Mary-Beth just glowered at her. Next time, she was NOT asking Karen for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, time for Plan B in operation Seduce Kieran...


End file.
